


HollowPoint

by Synergic



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Character Study, Denial, Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22688515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synergic/pseuds/Synergic
Summary: His guns have always felt like an extension of his body.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Jesper Fahey
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	HollowPoint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plutonianshores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/gifts).



_Don't play games with the Brekker boy._

Word circulated as a whisper at first. Just a trickle, but something that stains, silent and unnoticed and flowing into the cracks between the cobblestones. By now Kaz's star is on the rise, or maybe it's shot and fallen into the Dregs, so that little streamlet has become a veritable flood of gossip running through the Barrel and bursting up its seams. Sure, half of it might be lies. But no one would dare to guess which half.

Enter Jesper, eager to hear it all.

As far as Jesper can tell Kaz has always been determined to swallow the world whole and ask for seconds. His oyster, as the saying goes. But with Kaz it’s real: raw, unpalatable, served up on a platter made of its own cracked shell. A body— one that can be broken open by just the right combination of force and leverage. 

Hard to stomach maybe, if you haven’t yet acquired a craving for salt and tears. Kaz was probably born drinking them. As least, it seems he has a taste for unsavory things.

Including the bite of hard metal.

Don't play? Jesper hadn't meant to. He never does. The games play him, and the ones he's bound to lose are always the most attractive.

Kaz’s throat is working, his mouth as tight around the barrel of a gun as if it were a cock, looking for all the world like he wants to take it up to the pearl handle. His eyes flick upwards, darker than Jesper’s ever seen before and hot with something besides the thrill of a hostile takeover or a job well done. Then the fringe of his lashes barricades everything out again. 

There are always walls around Kaz. The gloves, the attitude.

The gun he’d rather feign intimacy with instead of pressing his tongue to anything that might have a vein and a pulse. 

Jesper shudders when Kaz pulls the barrel back out of his mouth. The sound it makes is _almost_ indecent in the way that flesh would be, slow and slick, at least until his teeth still tap the muzzle and everything goes painfully sharp again. 

He feels rather than hears himself whine. His fingers dig hard into the sides of his thighs— one empty holster, one dangerously filled —to keep from laying hands on himself, on Kaz, on anything. It's not a plea, because he won't be touched. Kaz’s lips will never love him with the obscenity he’s lavishing on sterile silver and copper. Kaz made that clear before they started. It wasn't even cruel by his standards, but clear and hard as diamond. When Jesper forgets (which he will one day, they both know it), this ends. 

But at least the pistol’s his. At least he knows _Kaz_ knows him; knows his leverage. He's seen how Jesper loves that gun, made it an extension of his body. The most dangerous part of himself, most beautiful, most sure. If the boss wants that . . . 

Dirtyhands doesn’t touch— that's the rumor so obvious no one bothers to put it into words at all. But the truth is that he doesn’t need to. Even the sight of him down on his knees in front of Jesper with his mouth on absolutely the wrong thing is going to be enough.

It has to be. This time Jesper's going to win.


End file.
